


Vent

by TerrifiedAristocrat



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Carlos is a Good Boyfriend, Cecil is Inhuman, M/M, and upset, corduroy pants, misaligned socks, station management disapproves of sex in the station
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-26
Updated: 2013-10-26
Packaged: 2017-12-30 12:09:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1018431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerrifiedAristocrat/pseuds/TerrifiedAristocrat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil loses his temper. Carlos assists in calming him down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vent

Everybody has different ways of showing anger. Carlos, for example, clenches and un-clenches his hands, usually while they’re in his pockets, and tightens his jaw. His father did the same and his sister CiCi would raise her eyebrows high into her forehead.

But Cecil… well, Cecil was odd. He didn’t clench his fists or pace, no veins throbbed on his temple but his teeth got longer and sharper, and his eyes glowed a weird purple shade that ordinarily Carlos would have thought was a hallucination had he not lived in Night Vale for a year.

A year of living in Night Vale didn’t prepare Carlos for a frantic call from one of the interns, a young lady named Laura.

“Carlos I hate to talk you from your science but… it’s Mr. Palmer. And it’s bad…” her voice was hushed and Carlos heard static in the background.

“I’ll be over,” Carlos replied seriously. He packed some tranquilizers and drove off to the radio station, tense and ready for anything.

There was a loud, static sound in the station and Carlos spotted an intern crouched in the hallway. She pointed off down the hall and Carlos nodded, rushing off to where he was directed. The air tasted like ozone and smoke- it dried out Carlos’ mouth and made his eyes water. Carlos fumbled with the doorknob and barreled his way through the door as soon as he could, stumbling into Cecil’s recording booth.

He was pretty sure that was Cecil- the figure in the recording booth was the same height as Cecil and had his characteristic comb over but the hair was now a snowy grey instead of white blond, his skin was black and his eyes- all three of them- glowed purple. Oh, and there were tentacles whipping around the room frantically, black and fine with thick, sturdy bases.

“Cecil!” Carlos exclaimed, approaching him slowly. All three violet eyes fixed on Carlos and he let out an unhealthy sounding shriek. Carlos didn’t pause and still approached him.

“öԋӪӮῶӂ҈ϗϠ” Cecil screeched. Carlos reached out and placed a hand on what was once Cecil’s arm, stroking it gently. The skin was hard and smooth, but moved fluidly as Cecil did. It was sort of fascinating.

“Cecil shh,” Carlos remarked softly, trying to soothe the man. He felt a tentacle wrap around his arm but did not falter, instead continuing to pet Cecil gently. Another tentacle curled around Carlos’ waist and he tensed, just for a moment as it pulled him closer.

“Solaracolarascarlosaralsocarlsacrolas“ Carlos swore he heard his name in that one.

“Cecil shh,” Carlos pleaded. “It’s ok Cecil it’s ok-“

“NO IT’S NOT They're completely out of order!” Cecil growled. He was now oozing a strange smoky substance from his mouth and eyes and it made Carlos uneasy. So Carlos did the only thing he could= he kissed Cecil softly on the cheek.

“My neighbor borrowed my socks-“ Carlos kissed Cecil’s throat “and got some awful slime on them -“ Carlos nipped lightly- Cecil’s skin tasted bizarre like mineral water and made his mouth cramp pleasantly “ –and he made fun of my shrine to you,” Carlos found Cecil’s mouth and kissed it, feeling teeth (too many teeth). Cecil shuddered and moaned and kissed back, filing Carlos’ mouth and lungs with that smoke, rich and earthy and just a little mineral. Carlos exhaled slowly, watching the black stuff pour out of his mouth hazily. His fingertips trembled and tingled and his head spun.

“Carlos-“ Carlos kissed Cecil again, senses of taste and touch and smell all blurring. He felt tentacles tighten and hold hi m close. He decided that smoke was interesting instead of unsettling- it made him tingle and spine and twist on the inside.

“Cecil Cecil Cecil,” Carlo mumbled against Cecil’s lips, which were gradually becoming lush and human.

“Carlos…” Carlos felt long fingers thread through his hair and he was pulled flush against Cecil, whose body was warm but shifting unnaturally. It was oddly erotic, since Carlos had no idea what he’d feel against his body next and his head was spinning from all the thick smoke that was encasing them warmly, like a blanket. Carlos went after Cecil’s throat again, laving the skin enthusiastically with his tongue- his skin just felt so unusual, so alien, but weirdly addicting, as if tasting Cecil made it easier to think, easier to breathe. When Carlos’ teeth bumped against Cecil’s slick, hard skin the man let out a funny undulating noise in his throat that sent delightful pricks of static down Carlos’ spine.

“Fuck,” Carlos swore softly as he felt more tentacles wind up his legs. The scientist lost it when their thin tips ran across his inner thighs and he rolled into Cecil’s near constantly shifting form needily, wrapping Cecil in a tight hug of his own. Cecil tipped his head and started whispering things in Carlos’ ear, things Carlos couldn’t translate or write down or repeat but felt in his bones and his stomach and his groin, words that trilled and hissed and stuttered and tickled Carlos’ tympanic membrane delightfully. More tendrils started tugging at Carlos’ clothes delicately- how many did Cecil even have? One on his arm, one around his waist (which was plucking at his belt teasingly) two on his legs… Cecil kissed Carlos again, blowing more smoke into Carlos’ lungs which Carlos accepted greedily- it wasn’t unsettling anymore but welcome like cold water in his belly. The smoke was changing too, changing in color and taste and now it tasted warm and cool all at once, sweeter and earthier with less of the chemical after-burn. It was warmer in temperature too, although Carlos didn’t realize this until Cecil had pried his pants off and the black smoke curled around Carlos’ exposed cock lovingly- could it be absorbed through the skin, whatever ‘it’ was? Even through a haze of arousal Carlos’ brain ticked away steadily, something that irritated his past partners when Carlos would later comment on little details he’d noticed during sex…

Oh, that’s what they were doing. That realization hit Carlos as he felt his body be lifted off of the ground, presumably by the tentacles that had so cheerfully entangled his limbs. It was hard to see anything through the haze and smoke but he could make out Cecil, still black skinned and shiny with a tousled mop of pale grey on his head and glowing violet eyes that bored into Carlos’ own. He was talking again, his voice low and rich and deep but his words warping themselves into unnatural shapes that didn’t belong in this realm of existence. Carlos did try to figure out what Cecil was saying through the tone in his voice or his actions but his thoughts were shattered by the feeling of something cold and slick pressing against his entrance, something that didn’t quite feel like a finger but was about the right width prodding at him. Carlos let out a startled cry and tensed and all at once the tentacles dissipated into tasteless black smoke that started to drain out of the recording booth. Carlos toppled into Cecil’s arms and the other man let out a bit of an undignified grunt as he was knocked to the ground with a mostly undressed and extremely startled (and aroused) Carlos on top of him.

“Carlos I’m so sorry!” Cecil exclaimed, sitting up and stroking the man’s hair softly while looking up at him with worried but non-glowing purple eyes. His skin was soft and smooth and human colored again, his hair was its natural whitish blond color and violet freckles stood out across Cecil’s cheeks cheerily.

“Cecil,” Carlos groaned, resting his forehead on Cecil’s shoulder.

“Carlos,” Cecil murmured back, his voice sad and reverent all at once. “Oh Carlos I didn’t hurt you did I?”

“Not exactly,” Carlos gasped back, trying not to rub against Cecil’s corduroy pants. Gosh they felt nice against his sensitized thighs.

“I mean I’m…” Cecil glanced down at Carlos’ lap and his cheeks took on a deep purple hue that made his freckles look black and sent another wave of heat through Carlos’ loins. “I should, ah. Um. Fix this.”

"That would be... wonderful," Carlos groaned out, briefly closing his eyes in relief when he felt Cecil's cool hand close around his cock. Of course Carlos opened them a moment later, and of course Carlos fumbled with Cecil's corduroy pants awkwardly to reciprocate because what sort of boyfriend would he be if he didn't? Granted the circumstances were odd, (as was the note found stuck to Cecil's forehead from what Carlos assumed was Station Management, requesting that Cecil keep his copulating activities out of the recording booth) but in the end... it wasn't too terrible.

(Later Carlos asked about the shrine. Cecil turned bright purple, shifted, mumbled something about a lab coat of his he'd left at the station once and abruptly changed the topic)


End file.
